DICK - Well Tom, did you get to see Santa this Christmas?
TOM - You know I didn’t. You put sleepy drugs in my hot chocolate.
DICK - Yeah had to Tom, you remember last year don’t yer. You wet the bed three times you were so excited, and I was wearing blotting paper jimjams. I nearly drowned!
TOM - Yeah but you say that. You also wet the bed that night.
DICK - My jimjams got so heavy with wee I couldn’t get out of bed to go to the bog. And you tell me, whose fault was that eh, mister reject bladder?
TOM - The yellow fountain was good though weren’t it?
DICK - Yeah that was fun. My yellow fountain was better than yours.
TOM - It went up higher but mine was more yellow.
DICK - Your wee fucking glows Tom.
TOM - Thank you Dick.
DICK - Nah Tom it’s not a compliment, your wee really glows like it’s radioactive or something.
TOM - Digital?
DICK - Lethal more like. I wish Santa would bring us our own beds.
TOM - Tell me about it mister explosion bottom.
DICK - If my bottom songs annoy you why did you give me ground fart spice and a signed fart from Johnny Fartpants?
TOM - We ain’t ‘ad a fight yet this Christmas ‘ave we Dick?
DICK - Perhaps tomorrow eh Tom?
TOM - Fingers crossed. Thanks for my socks Dick.
DICK - No worries Tom.
TOM - Thinking about last year, it were lucky I wet the bed so much though weren’t it, what with you trying to set fire to yer farts an all. I think it saved the bed from burning. Dick, do you think I should wet the bed now. You know, just in case.
DICK - If you want.